The water runs clear and fresh, so we fill the flask and drink our fill.
We stop there for a few minutes, crouched at the water’s edge.
The silence around us is more peaceful than I expected, the sounds of our breathing obscured by the gently bubbling stream.
Now that I’m not running to keep my body warm, I unroll the pelt and pull it over my shoulders. My breath frosts in the air in delicate, white wisps, but the fur keeps me warm enough.
“We can follow the stream and stay close to this water source,” Erik says. “Or we can head farther inland, closer to the edge of the mountain range, and approach the western outpost more directly.”
“Let’s keep to the stream,” I say. “I’d rather approach the outpost from the side than head-on.”
It also staves off the inevitable battle for longer, which gives me more time to plan.
As we continue upstream, the minutes and hours blur together.
We avoid the deep, mossy edges of the ravine where we might leave footprints and stick to the rocks closer to the edge of the water. Despite the increasingly cold air, the trees around us are no less lush, although their leaves change color from green to a pale blue, a fascinating shade.
While the silence only seems to grow deeper, there’s also a constant hum of energy around us, as if there’s life everywhere.
Soft, scurrying sounds in the underbrush. Quiet bird calls.
Eventually, I choose to break the silence. “Did your wolf’s pack ever roam this part of the mountain range?”
Erik shakes his head. “I don’t think they ever came this far northwest.”
I contemplate the trees and the stream. “It’s far more peaceful here than I expected.”
“There’s peace, but also danger.” He gestures off to our side. “Large animals are moving around over there on our right. There are also some to our left, but they’re farther away.”
“Bears? Wolves?” Then I ask more hopefully, “Deer?”
His forehead puckers. “I can’t tell. Bigger than goats, not big enough to be dragons.” He shrugs. “We’ll know when we see them. On the positive side, I don’t sense any fae or humans.”
“Oh, okay. Only wolves or bears. No need to worry, then.”
He gives me a smile. It’s a full smile that shows his now-perfect teeth. His eyes are bright, his chest rising and falling rapidly from our quick pace, just as mine is.
The breath catches in my throat because I’m not sure he’s ever looked so alive as he does right now.
I can’t help my answering smile. Can’t help but lean in, catch his hand, and draw him to a stop so I can kiss his lips.
In response, his hand tangles in my hair. I press my right palm to his jaw. He deepens the kiss with a groan that resonates through my body to my core.
Why shouldn’t I have this?
“How far away are those bears or wolves or deer?” I ask, pressing kisses to the side of his mouth.
“Far enough.” He growls, pulling me closer, his hands slipping beneath my pelt, tugging on my tunic and finding the bare skin across my lower back.
I carve a path with my fingertips to the top of his pants, tracing around the straps of his weapon harness and satchel to reach his stomach. “Good.”
Somehow, we manage to dispense with our satchels, weapons, and pants without breaking our kiss for longer than seconds.
I want to be fully naked with him, but it’s too damn cold, a fact he acknowledges when he pulls his larger pelt around us both.
Our body heat builds within it as he takes me to the soft moss at the side of the ravine and mutters something about worrying about our tracks later.
There, he kneels, drawing me down onto him so that I’m straddling his hips. His hand rests between us, softly pressing against my core, a tantalizing pressure.
